


Snake Pit

by CatherineS



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1994-01-01
Updated: 1994-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineS/pseuds/CatherineS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travis has captured both Blake and Avon. This time he decides to leave them to slow deaths in a snake pit. As they face what they believe to be their deaths, they reveal their hidden feelings to each other. Previously Published in the fanzine	Songs of Experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snake Pit

Once again, Blake restlessly paced around their cell. Ten hours had passed since their capture at Travis hands. He glanced over at his companion. Avon was too quiet. He had not said "I told you so;" he had in fact said very little. And Blake was worried. It was not like the comp tech to give up so easily. And Blake refused to give up. They would escape. He would not give up hope. Liberator was still out there. If they could only get their bracelets. What he didn't understand was why they hadn't been questioned. Or killed outright. Frustrated, he turned to his companion.

"Avon?"

The figure seated on the bunk moved slightly, inclining his head in answer.

"Blake."

"How are you feeling?"

The comp tech had been knocked unconscious during their capture, causing Blake more than a few anxious moments. As usual, Avon refused the rebel's attentions on regaining consciousness, protesting that he was fine. Blake winced at the caustic gaze settling upon him.

"As well as can be expected, considering our situation."

A sharp pang of guilt prickled at Blake's heart. Avon was right to be angry. If he had listened to the other man's warning, they would never have teleported down. And Avon would be safe on the Liberator. They both would, instead of facing interrogation and a painful death at Travis hands. Steeling himself for rejection, Blake knelt at Avon's side.

"I m so sorry, Avon. That you're here with me." He shook his head in frustration. "I know it is not enough, but it is all I have to give."

He bowed his head and waited, half-expecting the usual words of scorn, deriding his recklessness, his bleeding heart, and his Cause.

But Avon didn't speak. He gazed down at the bowed curly head and felt no scorn, only regret. Regret that the rebel would never know why he stayed. Not for safety, not for Liberator, but for him. _For an idealistic fool that I happen to have fallen in love with_. He lay one delicate hand in Blake's curls, letting the tendrils wrap his fingers, reveling in the silky sensation.

"Avon?" Blake's voice was softly questioning. The hand was withdrawn as Blake raised his head. Avon sighed.

"Your guilt does not satisfy me, Blake."

Sadness suffused the rebel's features, making Avon's breath catch in his throat.

"But what I just did, does."

It took a moment for the words to register and even then Blake was not sure he understood.

"Touching my hair?"

Avon smiled at his puzzlement.

"Such a simple act but I have always wanted to... indulge myself."

Eyes downcast., Avon looked so vulnerable. Waves of tenderness swept over the rebel leader. Avon cared for him. Wanted to touch him! All the rebel's long-hidden desires, his affection for Avon, broke through. He took the tech's hands and placed them in his curls.

"Whatever you want, Avon. I was always yours, even on the London."

The tech's eyes widened at the confession and he smiled as he stroked the rebel's hair.

"Might I be allowed to indulge a tactile urge as well?" This time Avon's grin was wicked.

"I hope so."

Blake's large hands came up to caress the fine-boned face, pulling it down into a sweet kiss. Avon's soft lips parted, allowing Blake the lead. Their tongues explored briefly, the kiss broken only by the need to breathe. And by Blake's conscience.

"Avon, we can't."

The dark gaze hardened.

"Travis?"

"There is bound to be surveillance. I will not sully our love by letting him watch."

"Love, Blake. Is that what this is?"

Blake's wounded gaze stared back at the smaller man and he felt the ache deep in his chest.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Blake reached out but was halted by the tread of boots approaching. Their gazes locked. If this was it, at least they would die knowing the truth.

"Sorry to intrude."

Travis strode into the room.

"I did not intend to keep you waiting."

Blake stood to face him, hatred for the Federation officer evident in every line of his body.

"Are you here to gloat, Travis? Or simply to bore us?"

That struck home. Travis face darkened and Blake never saw the fist that sent him sprawling. As his head cleared, Travis stood over him.

"Don't worry, Blake. You won't be bored much longer. I intend to enjoy myself, although I doubt either one of you will." He turned to the guards. "Bring them."

* * *

The two men shared a concerned glance as they were ushered to the edge of a small pit. There was a bench at one end but the mutoid guards pushed them towards the edge. Blake looked down and swallowed hard. The pit was writhing with snakes, poisonous ones from the look of it. _Dear God, not snakes. What are you up to, Travis?_ Blake shivered at the return of long forgotten childhood nightmares about snakes that devoured men. He felt the space commander's hand close painfully on his shoulder.

"Time to sit back and watch, Blake. Watch and enjoy." Horrified, Blake gasped as Avon's guard shoved him over the edge. "No!"

He struggled to break free but the mutoids only allowed him to the edge. He stared in a mixture of fear and relief. Avon lay where he had fallen, unwilling to move in case one of the snakes struck. He held one arm to his chest.

"Avon?" Blake questioned. The tech's head tilted up.

"It's broken."

The words were flat, uninflected, but Blake could read the pain behind them. Avon was in agony. He turned to Travis.

"Why are you doing this? What do you hope to gain by hurting him?"

Travis smiled.

"That should be obvious, Blake. Your cell was monitored, your affection noted. Your own death would mean little to you. His obviously means a great deal. And I like to watch you hurt, Blake."

The rebel closed his eyes against the mocking face of his enemy. It was his fault Avon was suffering. Travis was only hurting Avon to get to him. And there was nothing Blake could do to prevent it. _At least you fell where there are few snakes. And you're wearing leather... but poison..._ Blake shuddered at the unwelcome and frightening thought.

"How touching. Blake. Your devotion to your crew. But then he is more than just a shipmate, is he not?"

Blake glared back, refusing to further entertain his tormentor. Travis eyed him speculatively.

"I could speed things up. A laser blast would excite the snakes, I think. One bite and the suspense would be over."

Blake bit his lip, tasting the bitter salt-tang of blood.

"Or I could give you a chance, Blake. A chance to save your friend from such a painful demise.

Travis voice was mocking but the rebel could not stop himself. "How?"

You could enter the pit, Blake. If you can rescue him before he is bitten, his death will be quick. If not... you can die together, painfully. The choice is yours."

Blake's mind raced. Could he do it? He looked over the edge, at the dark figure curled against the wall. Avon was shaking his head. But it was possible, if he could avoid the snakes himself. The thought of watching the comp tech dying in agony was too painful to consider. There really was no choice. And Travis had known that. Blake turned a gaze worthy of Avon himself on Travis. Cold fury radiated off him as he looked scornfully down at the space commander.

"You knew I would agree."

"Yes. I did. Guards, release him."

The mutoids restraining the rebel stepped back, allowing him access to the pit. He peered over, seeking the best means of descent. How best to get to Avon without disturbing the snakes. _If one were to bite the tech..._ Blake'shivered, kneeling at the edge. A hand clamped down hard on his neck, tightening to the point of pain.

"Worried, Blake? You should be."

With those sharp words, Travis threw his weight against the rebel's back, shoving him over the edge. Blake tumbled down in a hail of stones, rolling until he smacked into a large boulder near the centre of the pit. Raising his head, he damned himself for being such a fool. He should have expected Travis to try something. He placed one hand down to steady himself as the dust settled. A sharp pain raced up his arm from his hand. _Damn_! He yanked his hand back, clasping it to his chest, staring at the unmistakable bite.

"No," he whispered, fear colouring his voice.

"Blake?" Avon's voice called out.

The rebel turned towards the voice, his heart denying what his senses told him. He would not be able to save Avon from a slow death and the tech would be forced to watch Blake die first. Avon registered the despair in the rebel's eyes almost before he noticed the way he was clutching his hand.

"No. You can't die. Not like this."

Blake closed his eyes against the other man's pain and against Travis's laughter. He smiled down on them, a gruesome deaths-head.

"Goodbye, Blake. I'll be back for the bodies."

And then he was gone.

"Travis!" Blake screamed.

But there was no reply. Travis and the mutoids were gone. Blake began to tremble, the effects of the poison already running through his system, combining with his nightmare fears. He slumped against the boulder, gazing longingly at the dark figure across from him. The snakes had moved off after the disturbance of his fall and there was a relatively clear path between the two men. Avon rose carefully and cautiously approached the rebel, still cradling his broken wrist. Sinking to his knees beside Blake, he reached out, wrapping one arm around the big rebel holding tight with a desperation born of love. Blake leaned his head into the smaller man's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry."

A faint smile touched the comp tech's lips.

"It is not your fault, Roj. Lie still."

But Blake's tremors didn't cease and Avon could see he was fighting the pain. Small gasps escaped from between clenched teeth. And all Avon could do was to hold him against the pain, gently stroking his sweat-dampened curls. Several hours passed that way, in agonizing slowness.

Avon's wrist ached abominably, Blake's laboured breathing harsh in his ears. There was no sign of Travis or the mutoids.

"Avon."

The tech's attention focused intently on the man in his arms.

"I just want you to know... I love you. I always will."

The pain tore deep into Avon's soul. To have been given such a gift and have it taken away, the pain was unbearable. He turned away so that Blake would not see the anguish his words caused. Living even a moment without the rebel seemed impossible.

" _Avon_."

He stiffened.

"What?" Blake whispered.

" _We are coming, Avon. Is Blake with you? I cannot reach him_."

Avon concentrated hard on sending her an image of Blake.

" _Do not worry. We will be there soon_."

"I hope so, Cally. I hope so."

Avon held the now unconscious Blake all the tighter.

"Stay with me, Blake. Just a little longer."

* * *

Their rescue had been uneventful. Cally and Vila had appeared within minutes of the telepathic message. Vila had blanched at the sight of the snakes but Cally dropped two teleport bracelets down to Avon. They teleported up and left the system before Travis even knew they had escaped. It was touch and go with Blake for a few hours but ORAC's recommended treatment worked and within a few days he was up and around, taking his watches as usual. Avon's wrist was easily healed and the rest of the crew assumed that everything was back to normal. But Avon avoided Blake when alone, seeking him only in the presence of others. In return. Blake felt hurt. Avon knew how much he cared. He even admitted his own affection for Blake in return. So why the cold shoulder now? It was with these thoughts in mind that Blake decided to confront the comp tech. During Avon's off-shift, he went to his cabin.

"Avon. It's me, Blake."

"What do you want now?"

Blake'sighed at the antagonism in the other man's voice.

"To talk to you. Please, it is important."

Prepared for rejection, the rebel was surprised when the door slid open.

"Talk then," Avon said shortly, moving to stand as far away from Blake as possible. The rebel took a deep breath. Avon was obviously ready for bed, clad only in black silky pants. A faint blush covered his cheeks at Blake's prolonged stare.

"You came to talk, Blake," Avon stated, cursing himself for his nervousness.

"I wanted to thank you, Avon. The others told me how you sat by my side in medical. Talked me through the nightmares."

Blake paused, the memories resurfacing, his fear for Avon's life and his own fear and pain. He shivered uncontrollably until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the bed. He opened his eyes, finding a concerned look on his companion's face. In that one unguarded second, Blake realized the truth. Avon did love him but, paradoxically, he feared him. Because that love made him vulnerable, to betrayal and loss. Blake vaguely remembered being held tightly, his hair stroked, words of comfort. But he also remembered Avon's desperate "No!" His refusal to accept the rebel's imminent death. Even now the tech's expression reflected his concern for Blake. And the rebel saw it. Gently Blake brushed his fingers across Avon's cheek, his thumb against the tech's lips. Avon closed his eyes with a soft groan, long lashes resting on his cheeks but his hand left the big man's shoulder to cover the hand against his cheek, rubbing his face into the caress. Blake watched in amazement as Avon gripped his hand, opening his eyes as he planted a kiss in the centre of Blake's palm. His hand released, Blake pressed it to his own chest, his heart hammering.

"Avon, I..."

Two fingers pressed against his lips, stilling them. Avon was so close, heat radiated off him, making Blake tremble. Lips replaced the fingers, pressing lightly, tongue tracing the outline of Blake's full lips. He opened willingly, allowing Avon's lead. The tech continued the kiss as his hands slipped the larger man's shirt from his shoulders. Blake gasped as deft fingers brushed a nipple, breaking the kiss. Avon's mouth followed his fingers on a path that left the increasingly excited rebel breathless. He squirmed with every touch, his cock hard and aching within the confines of his trousers.

"Uncomfortable, Roj? Because this is what you are in for." Avon teased, squeezing at the bulge between Blake's legs.

"Avon, please," Blake panted. He didn't know how much longer he could take this. His body felt like it was on fire. Each touch sent tremors through his massive frame.

"Well, since you asked politely," Avon murmured. His hands abandoned their previous mission to remove Blake's constraining trousers. Freed from restraint, the rebel's cock begged for Avon's attentions. Avon admired its texture, so silky smooth yet hard as steel with arousal. But as he reached out to caress it fully, he felt gentle hands on his own buttocks, kneading. then pulling away his own pants. Blake smiled at the evidence of the comp tech's excitement. Blake reached down to stroke the tech's already rock-hard organ, his thumb circling the sensitive tip, watching his lover's face. Avon cried out, his hands clamping down on Blake's, pulling them away. The gaze he fixed on his partner was one of molten desire and Blake shivered in delicious anticipation. Avon's need for him sent a powerful thrill through his body. He reached out a hand, laying it against the pulse racing through Avon's neck.

"Make love to me, Kerr."

He held his breath. Would Avon run from such commitment? Or was he finally ready to accept the rebel's love. Avon's words, when finally spoken, were husky with restrained emotion.

"Oh yes, Roj. I intend to."

Blake's world spun away as Avon pushed him onto his back. Small hands clasped larger ones as Avon lay upon the burly rebel, crushing their bodies together. Blake moaned at the pressure against his groin, squirming under Avon's control. He stared up into the tech's eyes, dark pools of liquid desire. His body tensed to the feel of Avon spreading his legs, urging the rebel to rest them against his shoulders. Instead, Blake spread them wide, wrapping his feet around Avon's waist. The tech seemed mesmerized but he responded eagerly. One hand on Blake's cock, the other entered him gently. Blake tossed his head at the delightful sensation. Distracted, he barely noticed when the buried finger was replaced by something much larger and harder. But Avon's involuntary thrust was sudden and deep and, for a moment, Blake's pleasure turned to pain.

"Kerr, please. It hurts."

Avon held still, seeing the distress on his lover's face as well as his words. One hand brushed sweat-dampened curls away as soft lips pressed to Blake's temple.

"I'm sorry. Try to relax."

Avon's voice was strained with the effort to hold back. But he waited, until the tenseness passed from Blake's body. As the rebel relaxed, Avon thrust carefully, unwilling to hurt the man beneath him. This time the big man's groans were those of pleasure. His strong arms wrapped round Avon, puffing him tighter, deeper into the rebel. Avon continued to thrust, his cock created an unbearable friction against the rebel's prostate. Blake's muscles tightened.

"Almost there, love," Avon panted, sensing that Blake was reaching his limit. Then Avon brushed a fingertip across the big man's cock. Too much, it was too much for Blake. He screamed his release, his orgasm triggering Avon's.

"Blake!" Avon gasped out weakly, falling forward onto the rebel's trembling form.

Aftershocks rippled through the rebel's muscles, making both men shiver. Exhausted, still Blake held on to the smaller man, pulling him down to his side. The dark head lay on his chest, one arm resting across it. Pressing a kiss to silky black hair, he inhaled deeply, then relaxed, letting his eves close sleepily.

"Love you, Kerr," he mumbled.

And Avon watched as he slept, savouring the reassuring beat of his heart. Gently, so as not to wake the quietly snoring rebel, Avon took his hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed the small scar, the only physical reminder of Travis torture. The rebel muttered at the touch, shifting slightly.

"I love you, Roj Blake," Avon whispered, so softly that Blake would have been hard pressed to hear even if awake. His confession made, Avon settled down to sleep, stroking Blake's chest softly until he himself was asleep.

* * *

 


End file.
